. She was bubbling with
laughter.

'Were you ever a cinema actor, Dick? The last two minutes have been a
really high-class performance. "Featuring Mary Lamington." How does the
jargon go?'

'I could have got him when he first entered,' I said ruefully.

'I know,' she said in a graver tone. 'Only of course you couldn't ...
Besides, Mr Blenkiron doesn't want it--yet.'

She put her hand on my arm. 'Don't worry about it. It wasn't written it
should happen that way. It would have been too easy. We have a long
road to travel yet before we clip the wings of the Wild Birds.'

'Look,' I cried. 'The fire from heaven!'

Red tongues of flame were shooting up from the out-buildings at the
farther end, the place where I had first seen the woman. Some agreed
plan must have been acted on, and Ivery was destroying all traces of
his infamous yellow powder. Even now the concierge with her odds and
ends of belongings would be slipping out to some refuge in the village.

In the still dry night the flames rose, for the place must have been
made ready for a rapid burning. As I hurried Mary round the moat I
could see that part of the main building had caught fire. The hamlet
was awakened, and before we reached the corner of the highroad sleepy
British soldiers were hurrying towards the scene, and the Town Major
was mustering the fire brigade. I knew that Ivery had laid his plans
well, and that they hadn't a chance--that long before dawn the Chateau
of Eaucourt Sainte-Anne would be a heap of ashes and that in a day or
two the lawyers of the aged Marquise at Biarritz would be wrangling
with the insurance company.

At the corner stood Amos beside two bicycles, solid as a graven image.
He recognized me with a gap-toothed grin.

'It's a cauld night, General, but the home fires keep burnin'. I havena
seen such a cheery lowe since Dickson's mill at Gawly.'

We packed, bicycles and all, into my car with Amos wedged in the narrow
seat beside Hamilton. Recognizing a fellow countryman, he gave thanks
for the lift in the broadest Doric. 'For,' said he, 'I'm not what you
would call a practised hand wi' a velocipede, and my feet are dinnled
wi' standin' in the snaw.'

As for me, the miles to Douvecourt passed as in a blissful moment of
time. I wrapped Mary in a fur rug, and after that we did not speak a
word. I had come suddenly into a great possession and was dazed with
the joy of it.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mr Blenkiron Discourses on Love